with quiet words i'll lead you in
by qaby
Summary: PQ. Post-Journey. He wants to know that he still might have a shot at having some kind of hold on her. / Quinn pays a visit to Puck at Sheets 'N Things during the summer.


He spots her across the store, peering around, her delicate curls swaying with each movement of her neck and he can't seem to tear his eyes away, paying absolutely no attention to the packages of soap he's supposed to be unpacking and shelving. They lock eyes and she freezes for a nanosecond, debating whether or not to turn around and head back home, because she realizes that she's simply _not ready_.

Too much has transpired between them and she can't look at him without having the memory of giving the signed adoption papers to Shelby Corcoran and taking one last look at Beth before handing their daughter away to the Vocal Adrenaline instructor running through her head and it simply eats away at the remains of her heart.

But she's _Quinn Fabray_, and she would be _damned_ if she was going to let that stop her from achieving her goal.

She takes a deep breath and stalks toward Puck, and his throat constricting once he processes in his mind that she's heading his way. His fists clench, and he curses himself when he feels that his palms are sweaty, because _what the hell_? He doesn't usually have so many pansy-like attributes when it came to chicks. So, instead of giving himself a headache by mulling over all the _feelings_ and the sort of crap having them would imply, he blames Quinn, because the girl that's standing in front of him with a solemn expression on her beautiful face seems to always have that impact on guys.

Just ask Finn.

"Hey," she begins, lacking a better opening line. She doesn't smile, doesn't make eye contact, doesn't allow him to see how nervous she is being in his presence again. But he notices how her slender fingers fiddle with the hem of her peach-colored cardigan, and he thinks that maybe she might feel a portion of the anxiety that's making his stomach coil.

"Hey."

His chin juts out slightly when she looks at him, hazel eyes reflecting hurt and confusion at his nonchalant tone.

He can act as if he hasn't spent every single day since Regionals thinking about her. He can act as if he went out and took the definition of _manwhore _to a whole different level because he wanted to - and not because he was hurt that she didn't bother trying to get in contact with him for a month and a half before walking into Sheets 'N Things. He can act as if her being here - within reach, close enough that he can smell the lavender that he's always fucking _adored _radiating off her tresses with each breeze that accompanies the opening and closing of the automatic doors - has absolutely no effect on him whatsoever.

Except...he's never been much of an actor.

His jaw sets as his eyes betray him and travel down to her now-flat belly, and his eyebrows furrow, hating how much he yearns for her protruding baby bump and her incessant craving for bacon. It somehow means that he has no claim over her anymore, that someone can assume she doesn't belong to anyone and be _right_. He's half-tempted to take her right there - in the middle of the store, in the hopes of having some kind of proof that she's untouchable.

Because she's _his_, dammit.

Instead, Puck stuffs his hands in the pockets of his apron - because they don't need to give up another child - , and shifts uncomfortably where he stands, and Quinn breathes a sigh. He looks down at her through hard eyes, expectant, but she doesn't continue, and he doesn't try to push a conversation.

There's so many things they have to say, but none of them utter a word. She knows exactly what she wants to tell him, but as the events of the past nine months skim through her brain, she can't seem to find her voice, the memories swallowing her whole.

(_I'm pregnant - you're not my daughter - I'm done with you! - we aren't keeping her - what's her name? It's Beth._)

With each passing second, the blood pounding in Quinn's ears gets louder, increasing in volume until her chest is heaving and she's letting out ragged breaths, water pooling in her eyes as she begins to hyperventilate.

Puck instantly reacts. He grabs Quinn's shoulders and steadies her, leading her to a secluded area quickly once he notes that they were starting to attract attention, knowing that she didn't want to be the victim of questioning or humiliation. His blood freezes once he catches sight of the tears running down her cheeks.

"Quinn." She shakes her head, eyes shut tightly, gasping for air as her fingers curl into his apron pleadingly. "Hey, look at me," he orders, and she ignores him eyes frantically, releasing her hold and staring at everything - _anything _- but him. He forces himself to stay calm - she _needs _him to be calm - and grips her chin between his thumb and index finger, turning her face toward him. "Look at me."

The tinge of desperation in his soft voice makes her oblige, and she finds her breathing returning back to normal as she doesn't turn away from his eyes, finding the intense concern swimming in the forest oak depths soothing. Puck breathes a sigh of relief once he's sure that she wasn't going to spontaneously combust, and shakes his head slightly.

"The _fuck_, Fabray?" he asks, tucking a stray curl behind her ear gently to show that the question held no malice, palming her face and running his thumb over her cheek. His heart swells at the fact that she didn't immediately swat his hand away.

It's funny how a panic attack is all it takes for the awkwardness to evaporate.

"Thanks."

The way she's looking at him makes his throat go dry and he removes his hand from her skin, taking a step back and clearing his throat, nodding once, resisiting the urge to scoff, because _like he would let anything happen to her_. Even though he doesn't want to, he knows that if there's _any _hope that things will go back to normal before his life went to complete shit, he has to initiate the conversation that Quinn came here to have.

"So, why'd you come?"

She frowns and her brow lowers. "To talk to you...and to thank you," she answers, thanking the heavens that her voice didn't waver, expertly ignoring his quizzical look before choosing to continue. "To say that a lot has happened in the last year is a _complete _understatement, and although it wasn't my _ideal _sophomore year, I really appreciate you standing by me every step of the way."

His eyes are trained on his shoes as he shrugs. "'S the least I could do." She inclines her head, and he wants to burst out laughing at how much goddamn _irony_ this situation holds. "If I never fucked you, you wouldn't have gotten pregnant, and you'd still be in the Cheerios, torturing people like Rachel with Finn and his dumb-puppy look on your arm."

The corner of her lip quirks. "It takes two to tango, Puck. It was my fault too. I should've known better than to go to _you _with self-esteem issues," she assures him, expression sincere when he raises his head to look at her in surprise, also placing a half-smile on her face to show him she didn't mean to offend him in any way. "Getting pregnant was...the _worst _thing that's ever happened to me," she admits, hating the repentant look that dances on his features. "But it also made me grow up. I didn't know who I was back then. Popularity, the Cheerios, Finn - my universe revolved around those three things. I remember being outright cruel to other people and it makes me _sick_, it makes me realize how - "

"Do you miss her?" he blurts out, because it's been the question he's wanted to ask the most since she walked through the doors, and he just couldn't seem to hold it in any longer.

Her jaw tenses as she slowly nods, feeling the familiar pricking sensation in her eyes as she thinks about how a little pink bundle is all she'll ever know of the girl she brought into this world. "I think about her every day," she whispers, instinctively wrapping her arms around her stomach, knowing that nothing would be there to cradle, and the reminder of it makes the tears spill over. "How about you?"

He wants to scoff, wants to laugh in her face and scream _"Duh!"_, but she looks so utterly broken, the same way he feels, so he just nods once. "I wish we could've kept her." His voice is gruff, filled with all the pain and longing that he feels; for his daughter, for Quinn, for his old life.

"We did the right thing," she says, but the way she says it makes Puck think that she's trying to convince herself more than him. She bites her lip before looking back up at him with vulnerable eyes. "We're going to be okay, right?"

He grabs her arm and pulls her to him, running his hands up and down her back to comfort her as her palms lie against his chest and she buries her head in the crook of his neck, inhaling the laundry detergent and barely-there cologne. "Yeah. Our baby girl's gonna be happy, she'll have a family. We'll be okay."

The unspoken _"We still have each other." _looms in the air between them.

She smiles at the thought of her daughter jumping around and laughing, even if she's not the one that will get to cause her happiness. Quinn subconsciously wonders when Puck got so good at being comforting before she waves the thought away, sniffling and applying pressure to his chest, pushing him away gently.

He misses her instantly.

She nods, wiping under her eyes. "You're right." There's still _so _much more that needs to be said between them, but Quinn's all cried out and thinks that they should deal with the aftermath of the whole year one day at a time. She just needed to know that he was willing to talk her through it, because she thinks he might be the only one to really know how to make her feel better. She starts backing away reluctantly, giving him a strained smile. "I'll let you get back to work."

He smirks at her, eyes dancing with mirth and she finds herself relishing the familiarity of his expression. "It's not like I get much done anyway." Then he turned serious, hesitating before opting to continue. "At the hospital...I admitted I loved you," he starts, and her heart races, afraid of where he might be leading the conversation. "And then you ignored me for the next month. Now, I'm no relationship expert, and you know it, but, I don't really think that's the typical reaction, because I sure as hell wasn't expecting it."

Her stomach churns, because his tone is angry, but she knows it's just masking the hurt he feels, and she hates herself for it. "I'm sorry. I should've called you," she murmurs, regret lacing her words. "I just...I wasn't ready. You have no idea how hard it was coming here. I just needed _time_."

He nods, hating how his resolve is complete _shit_ when it comes to Quinn. The unreadable expression on his face tells her that it isn't what he wanted to hear. What Puck wants to hear is that she loves him too. He wants to know that he didn't put his heart on the line so it could be stomped on, because that shit will literally scar him for life. He wants to know that he still _might _have a shot at having some kind of hold on her.

She keeps her eyes trained on his face as she thinks.

Does she love him?

She's only ever known true love once, and that was when she was with Finn. The kind of love she had with him was sweet, innocent, everlasting. It consumed her and made her feel like she could fly.

But Puck isn't Finn, and never was or will be.

Puck was irritating, immature, and an unfortunate constant in her life; that was how she saw him. That all changed when she saw how willing he was to take care of her and their daughter. How sweet he could be...just _because_. How he always made sure to remind her that she was the main focus in his life.

Her heart warms when she recognizes he continued to behave that way even after she had Beth.

"I love you."

His eyes dance and he smiles. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

She grins at him. He wraps his arms around her waist, hugging her so that her feet are off the floor, and the giggle that escapes her lips makes his heart do a somersault. He sets her down, but doesn't release his hold, instead pressing his lips to her temple.

He lets go of her, taking his apron off. "Let's go."

Her eyes widen slightly. "Isn't this your shift?"

He smirks, tossing the material in the corner while sending Finn a message telling him to inform Mrs. Schuester that he was 'sickeningly sick'. "_Tut tut_. Your surprise disappoints me, babe. It's like you don't know me at all," he teases, surprised at how _natural _he is around her. It just feels _right._

She rolls her eyes, but the transparent affection in her smile betrays the purpose behind the action. He hesitates before her for a second before deciding _ah, fuck it_, and taking her hand in his, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles gently. Sure, they've held hands before, but that was when they were in the middle of a pseudo-relationship, on the borderline between an understanding and wanting to tear each other's eyes out. This was the real fucking _deal_ and it actually meant something.

He raises his head to meet her gaze and refrains from going limp with relief when she sees that she's grinning, looking down at their hands, long eyelashes ghosting above her cheeks as she laces their fingers together, sealing the deal as they make their way out the door quickly.

He smirks. Oh yeah, he's _the man_.

Puck turns to Quinn once they're outside and sees her hair flying all over the place, thanks to the unnatural wind and he can't resist the urge to laugh when her lower lip juts out in an adorable pout. He goes to place his hands on either side of her head before pressing his lips gently to hers. She wraps her arms around his neck and he smiles into the kiss, because this beautiful, smart, enchanting, silly girl was _his_.

Sure, it's a different kind of claim.

But it'll do.

* * *

**Reviews are love.**

**A/N: **What is this? A _Quick_ one-shot? From _ME_? Well, inspiration randomly slapped me across the face, and also, as I've said before, I multi-ship like crazy, so I have to admit that there is a soft spot in my fangirling heart for this beautiful pairing, and I don't mind watching their storylines. Title comes from the song, "The Unwinding Cable Car" by Anberlin, which is fucking _gold_.


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